Pancakes, Tears, and Second Chances
by SSAEmilyHotchner
Summary: Oneshot. Set in my Fade To Black universe. Emily is having qualms about her oncologist, Doctor Haynes, and does not know how to proceed. Takes place after Emily's first chemotherapy and radiation treatment - around Chapter 10 of FTB. May contain spoilers.


**Author's Note: So, this is me, unable to let go of Fade To Black because it is too wonderful to write and I don't ever want to stop. But the real and optional endings will be posted this week; the end is near and I need away to maintain the universe. (Huh. That kind of makes me sound like a superhero, doesn't it?) Of course, the answer is a series of oneshots! Hope you enjoy this one; there will be many more to come.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.**

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><p>"I don't like my oncologist."<p>

Hotch rounded the corner, a world-weary expression on his face and a cup of hot ginger and chamomile tea in his hand. He handed the latter to Emily, coming to sit beside her on the bed. "How come, sweetheart?"

She didn't answer, instead noting the tone of his voice. "You don't like him either, do you?"

Hotch was silent for a minute, solely observing the tendrils of steam coming from the mug in Emily's grasp. "I…don't know what to think," he eventually said, snaking an arm around her waist and holding her tight.

"I get it; Doctor Haynes has done this for half his life, telling people they have cancer, telling people they're going to die. I'm just another person that comes walking through the door to him."

"You're _not_ going to die, Emily," Hotch insisted, his eyes hard with emotion. _God, ho__w many times will I have to tell her?_

"You don't know that," she murmured indifferently, taking a long sip of the warm liquid and letting it caress the back of her throat. "But you'd think he'd try and be a bit more optimistic around his patients, right? Doesn't he understand that he's one of the few people I can look to in a time like this for reaffirmation of my health and status? Apparently not," Emily scoffed.

"I'm hoping he'll get better," Hotch said after a beat. "Part of me knows how it's like; you know our job. Going door to door, telling a mother or father that their child was killed…"

Emily's gaze immediately caught his. "You said I wasn't going to die," she whispered.

Hotch internally rebuked himself. "You're not," he assured, moving in to press a kiss to the corner of her lips. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I should have been more careful with my analogies."

"Don't apologize," she sighed. "I'm in a weird place right now," she explained. "I don't know what's going through my mind, only that there's _a lot_ going through my mind. I just want to rest, but the moment I close my eyes, I begin to think about…I begin to think about how I'm going to endure this. And if I will be able to."

"You will." Hotch took her hands in his and brought them to his lips. "With every ounce of strength I have in my, I will make sure to always be here for you; in any capacity. I promise you," he vowed, "I'm never leaving your side."

Emily managed a small smile at that, kissing his jaw slowly as the sun set outside. "Aaron?"

"Emmy?" he countered sweetly.

"Where are you in all of this?" she asked softly. "How are _you _doing?"

Hotch maneuvered so that she was lying against his chest. "Do you know why I love you?" he asked.

"Because I make excellent pancakes?"

He laughed at that, pleased to see that her sense of humor had not been hit by her fast-developing depression. "That, yes. But more so because in the midst of all your struggles, the one thing you care about is not yourself, but your family. Sweetheart, don't worry about me," he implored. "Take care of yourself for once."

She leaned her head back on his broad shoulder, looking him in the eyes. "We said we would talk about everything," she reminded, remembering their conversation that had taken place minutes after they had heard about her diagnosis.

_Invasive ductile carcinoma, stage two-B. Breast cancer. _

Hotch looked at her for a long moment, then looked away. "I…I guess I'm in a weird place right now, too. It's a lot to take in, even after a week or two. All I want, though, is your safety and health. That's all I want," he repeated.

Emily felt her heart clench at his words, and they love they held. But one thing still remained on her mind. "You were crying earlier," she said quietly, so quietly that if he hadn't turned his gaze back to hers, he would not have heard her.

He bit his lip. "I was," he acknowledged.

"You never cry."

Slowly, he brought a hand up to caress her cheek. "You're going to survive this, Emily. But it's going to be a rough three months," he sighed. "Chemotherapy is not easy," he said, as if either of them had thought it was. "It's both physically and emotionally depleting, it grates on relationships and friendships, it puts unnecessary strain on the person going through it. It's going to be rough," he repeated. "And I don't want you to have to suffer through it."

"But it's all for the greater good," she finished, swallowing thickly. "Right?"

"But it's all for the greater good," he agreed.

Emily nodded idly. "But Aaron…what if…he doesn't get better?" she asked, the topic of their previous conversation still on her mind.

He rubbed a hand over her back, soothing her nerves. "If he doesn't improve, and you decide you no longer want to have to deal with someone as impersonal as he is –"

"Impersonal. That's the word I was looking for," Emily nodded. "Sorry, continue."

Hotch smiled. "If you no longer want to have him as your doctor, then we'll find another. The most important thing is that we find an oncologist who is not only board certified, educated, and experienced, but one who is supportive and compassionate as well. If by your next appointment, Haynes doesn't fall under those criteria, we'll switch. We'll switch until you finally find your match. That sound okay?"

Emily eventually nodded, her young, socially-awkward oncologist still on her mind. "I mean, I want to give him a chance, I really do. But –"

"But this is your welfare we're talking about."

Emily immediately thought of Avery and Jack. "Exactly."

~.~.~

Twenty minutes after being attended to by a kind, elderly nurse, Emily sat with Hotch in her examination room, staring tiredly at her hands.

Doctor Haynes still had not shown up.

"The man has the worst bed-side manner," she finally said, seemingly to an empty room. She had almost forgotten Hotch was there beside her; he had been quiet for the longest stretch of time, the only sound in the room their breathing and the rustle of pages as he sporadically flipped through a notebook he had brought with him to write down any treatment details. "Two treatments in and he's already losing points from me." As if life was a game. "And he's almost half an hour late!"

Hotch was about to rise out of his seat to go find another nurse, but at that exact moment, the frazzled-looking oncologist came bustling in, his arms full of patient charts and a briefcase. "I am so sorry, Emily," he said, a sincerely apologetic look on his face. "I didn't think I would be this behind schedule; my sister just had surgery and needed a ride back home, and my parents couldn't take her," he rambled in explanation. "I didn't think it would take up my entire lunch break, much less more time than that. But there was traffic, and –"

Emily silenced him with a hand on his arm. "It's okay, Doctor," she assured, her expression softening. Christ, the man was almost young enough to be her son; she couldn't help it when her maternal side came out.

"I'm so sorry," he said once more, this time toward Hotch. "And, oh, Emily," he said, presumably coming to a sudden realization. "I wanted to apologize for something else. At your last appointment, after you left, I realized that I had been kind of brusque towards you. Please don't take it personally; I've been in this position long enough that I should be able to remain objective and not mix my personal and professional lives together, but it still happens some days, and I hate it." He sighed, unaware of the similar impressed and slightly surprised looks on Emily's and Hotch's faces. "When you have a job like mine, it's hard," he continued. "But that's no excuse. I wanted you to know that I'll always be here if you have any questions or concerns, or…even if you just need someone to listen."

Emily bit her lip, unable to house any further qualms against the man. "Thank you, Doctor. That's nice to hear."

"I shouldn't have had such a slip-up that day. Or the others, for that matter." He cleared his throat. "And please. If I can call you Emily, call me Isaac. Sometimes I hate the professionalism; I know that I fail at establishing any semblances of personality with my patients, but this is one step I can take." He mustered up a smile. "So, before we begin, do you have any questions regarding your last appointment, any side effects that have come up, or…anything in general?"

"Just one." Emily arched a single eyebrow, and spoke the question on Hotch's mind as well. "Can you read minds?"

After all, his apology topics were uncanny.

Haynes looked at her, an amused expression on his face. "I'm sorry?" he half-laughed.

She smiled and shook her head. "Never mind."

And then, right before her chemo cocktail was to be administered, Emily and Hotch shared a glance that clearly said that maybe…maybe they'd give Doctor Isaac Haynes one more chance.

**THE END.**

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Thoughts? Please leave me a review telling me how I did; it's very much appreciated!<strong>


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